The Wacky Adventures of Abraham Lincoln #95

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The doctors hauled Abe’s gangly frame out of the theater and across the street.
The bed was too short, so they laid him upon it at an angle.
Mary Todd was a wreck. Not only was her husband mortally wounded, but the theater owner refused to give a refund.
Abe’s son Robert pondered the situation: “Surely, God would not have created such a being as man, with an ability to grasp the infinite, to exist only for a day! No, man was made for immortality!”
Abe wheezed, sighed, and breathed no more.
The President was dead.
“Never mind,” said Robert.

Weekly Challenge #137 – Blow Pops and Water

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Thirty-Seven where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was Blow Pops and Water
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

Which were the best stories of Weekly Challenge #137?
Tom
Norval Joe
Justin from http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pr_Zu6vxWEo
Anima Zabaleta from http://http.zabbadabba.com/
Eva Moon from http://evamoon.net/
Byz
Guy David from http://www.guydavid.com
Ashley
Caleb from http://blacktiemartiniclub.com
Planet Z
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com


Go ahead and listen to them and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):


TOM

They drained the water out of the pool, then pulled Bruce onto the deck. In spite of being very dead and very wet Bruce had a exceedingly large smile on his face due to a number of blow pops shoveled into his month. Lt. Roveochvski thumbed through his copy of The Guinness Book of World Record under lollipops filled with bubble gum. “It says 14 by Lionel Mountbatten of Sheffield.” The forensic guy pulled out 16 pops. “Seems he literally gummed himself to death, should have stuck to cigarettes probably lived longer.” Roveochvski popped a lifesaver and tagged the toe.

NORVAL JOE

The Brain sat beside the hospital bed of his life long companion, Pinky.
He stroked the silky fur between Pinky’s large floppy ears to calm his thrashing in his pain killer induced delirium.
Developmentally delayed from birth, Pinky developed juvenal diabetes, juvenile rheumatoid arthritis, Charcot-Marie-Tooth syndrome, hemophilia and teenage onset bi-polar depression.
The final insult came with HIV tainted blood from a transfusion.
Pinky opened his watery eyes and gazed sightlessly at his friend.
“Pinky, are you pondering what I’m pondering?” “I think so Brain, but I forgot the blow pops and water.”
Desolate, Brain lowered his head and cried.

JUSTIN

The humpback whale lay on the Oregon Coast, fins flopping. An accident by someone watching whale and not the road caused a truckload of blow pops spilled all over. Someone had an idea. Soon spectators chewed on the blow pops and got the gum ready. When there was a huge glob of gum, they carefully put it in one of the whale’s blowholes. Then they hooked a mix of oxygen and helium to the other blowhole. The bubble formed from the blowhole and the whale floated and was guided by a kite flying expert back to sea. Pop! Splash! Freedom.

ANIMA

Kellie loves to knit. Really makes the needles fly.
First it was scarves for friends,
then more difficult techniques, like felting and spinning her own yarns.
Once she went experimental, I don’t know of anything she didn’t try to knit.
Dad got slippers knit from the skins of organic banana peels;
Jenna, a blanket made of bank statements,
I received a barbed wire hobo bag.
But not every project was successful…
Kellie wore a SWEET cotton candy cardigan, with blow pops for buttons, to the church picnic.
Needless to say, she was a big hit at the water balloon toss.

EVA MOON

The popping bubble sounds were coming in a steady, unbroken stream at last.
The rush of pleasure at his accomplishment almost overshadowed the pounding headache.
Zoran was a master clarinetist, but one skill eluded him: circular breathing. Without it he couldn’t play continuously. Until now.
The old methods are often the best: Want to learn circular breathing? Get a glass of water and a straw. Have your teacher stand behind you with a stick. Blow bubbles in the water. When the bubbles stop, you get whacked with the stick.
Trust me, in no time at all the bubbles don’t stop.

BYZ

Ten years old and full of mischief, Lara, wandered along the sidewalk with her lollipop jammed into her mouth. A Blow Pop to be exact. Temptation had greedily lured her into stealing money for the favored sweet. Her conscience pricking her just enough to take the edge off her blissful state.
Rounding the corner, her young body ran smack into a huge man. Looking up she saw a policeman.
Her mouth opening on a shriek saw the coveted Blow Pop fall into a puddle of muddy looking water.
Instantly her mom’s words, “crime doesn’t pay”, ran guiltily through her mind.

GUY DAVID

The packet of Cherry Flavored Charms Blow Pops was half buried in the water. Little Linda bent over and tried to pick it up. It was stuck. The kid pulled at it. The packet seemed to pull back at her. She pulled harder. The packet also pulled harder until it knocked Linda off her feet and started dragging her into the water. Linda just wouldn’t let go. She really wanted those colorful yummy looking lollipops. Eventually, she was pulled right into the water where a shark with a fishing rod put her in a basket and walked away with her.

ASHLEY

The kid took two licks of the tootsie roll blow pop and accidentally dropped it.
“How many licks to get to the middle?” he exclaimed.
An owl silently swooped down on the fallen blow pop and bit it in half.
Unfortunately for the owl, he just crashed a pool party complete with swimmin pool, slip-n-slide and a sundry of water balloons.
Some of the other kids started pelting the owl with water balloons. The owl turned his head completely around startling the kids, then silently flew back into the woods, blow pop in tow.
“So it takes three licks, “sighed the kid.

CALEB

“Robot, is Stacy home yet?”
“In the Garden, Sir”
“Did you get the stuff for the play date tomorrow?”
“stuff, Sir?”
“The shopping list I left on the fridge for you!”
“You did not specify…”
“It doesn’t matter what size water, half liter, 20 Ounces, whatever”
“You did not specify…”
“What kind of lollipop? They’re kids it doesn’t matter. Cherry, Strawberry, Schnozzberry for all they care!”
“You did not specify it was a Shopping List, Sir”
“What the hell else…?”
Just then Stacy ran in saying she’d seen her dad lying dead in the pool with no pants on, smiling

PLANET Z

Just a kid, a stupid kid, a drug runner who didn’t have a snowball’s chance in Hell to get out of the ghetto, he tagged the bricks with shapes and colors because he didn’t know how to read, didn’t know how to write, didn’t know how to think, didn’t have a future, ran to the dealer and said “Tucker want two kilo blow, Pops.” and the dealer smacked him hard, hard enough to knock out a rotten tooth and make his eyes water “Don’t you call me Pops, I ain’t your poppa, I just fucked your momma, boy.”

The Tongue

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Robert Pastorelli’s been dead for years, but that didn’t stop me from dreaming about him.
His corpse had been torn to pieces and I had stumbled across his tongue, a throbbing slab of redness inchworming its way along the pavement.
I placed a resonating gadget to its tip and it spoke of his death and subsequent desecration.
When I found the rest of his head, I placed the tongue back inside and it babbled nonsense.
Why I dreamed of Robert Pastorelli, let alone his severed head, tongue torn out, I have no idea. I haven’t watched Murphy Brown in years.

Guards

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The brothers stand at either side of the door, wearing their finest red military parade jackets.
Even though they each had a musket on their shoulder, the guns hadn’t been fired in years.
When had they been fired? Let’s see…
I know. I remember.
That day, the brothers had challenged each other to a duel.
After walking ten paces, they turned, and fired.
Both brothers fell over, dead.
I had them both stuffed, dressed, and propped up at either side of the door.
They are pretty useless as guards now, but then they were pretty useless as guards back then.

Half the moon

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Which half of the moon do you want?
The left? The right?
Waning? Waxing?
Or perhaps you want the top of it?
Don’t forget the bottom.
Maybe you want the side that faces us. Certainly you do not want the side that faces away.
What do they call it? The dark side of the moon?
Take your time. It is an important decision.
What of the other half? Who gets that?
Is half the moon not enough for you? Need you have more?
I can understand. What good is half a moon?
Better to have none at all, I suppose.

Art Museum

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Every day after work, I go to the art museum.
It is on my way home, next to a family grocery that always has the best apples.
You aren’t supposed to eat in a museum. But they let me bring an apple in.
Or an orange, if I am not in the mood for an apple.
Museums often display just a part of their collection to the public. The rest is in storage or being restored with touchups and cleaning.
They let me look at the many works sitting in storage, admiring the Junior Varsity squad of the art world.

Goalposts

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There’s no greater thrill than when your team wins the championship and the crowd tears the goalposts down.
I wish we had stopped at that.
After the goalposts came down, we started tearing up the field, ripping huge sheets of sod and tossing them around like bathroom mats.
Then we busted up the concession stands and the bathrooms.
The seats and bleachers took some effort, but soon enough, we were throwing seats around smashing them to bits.
The rest of the stadium required heavy construction equipment, but we were persistent and fired up.
A final cheer, then we went home.

The Wacky Adventures of Abraham Lincoln #94

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“What was that loud noise?” was Abraham’s second-to-last thought.
Abe slumped forward and moaned. Booth shouted “Sic Semper Tyrannis!’ and leapt to the stage.
Abe heard the ugly crack of Booth’s ankle breaking. As a testament to Abe’s overflowing compassion, he felt badly for the man who would have to walk on such a leg.
His left eye saw nothing but blood. His one remaining eye opened and spotted the gun in Booth’s hand.
He’d been… shot?
“I guess the bullet is stronger than the ballot after all” was his final thought, and then…
Applause?
The audience demanded an encore.

Weekly Challenge #136 – Thankful

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WARNING: After the rookies, I get off on a rather perturbed rant over something Steven the Nuclear Man said on his Ideatrash blog in reference to a simple question I asked on Twitter.
If you don’t want to deal with the politics, religion, he-said-she-said or risk having your head cut off for thinking for yourself, please feel free to skip that section.
The rant begins at 12 minutes. Jeffrey’s tale begins at 16 minutes and 28 seconds.


Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Thirty-Six where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was Thankful
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

Which were the best stories of Weekly Challenge #136?
Anima from http://zabbadabba.com
Justin from http://water.cc/
Tom from http://midi.libsyn.com
Byz from http://eatonbennett.blogspot.com/
Hattie
Mary from http://randomness-of-me-blog.blogspot.com/
Norval Joe from http://www.norvalsoutlook.blogspot.com
Jeffrey from http://greathites.blogspot.com/
Ashley
Guy from http://guydavid.com
Planet Z
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com


Go ahead and listen to them and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):


Anima

I reckon I’s got a moment to ruminate…
Lemme see: January, I got T-boned: but Insurance bought me a new used Chevrolet. It don’t burn half the oil the Dodge did!
That there windstorm peeled off the trailer roof and Jimmy put in a fancy skylight. So what if it leaks a little;
Summer drought killed off the grass, so the yard never needs mowing;
And today, a mechanical on this here aeroplane gives me 90 minutes of peace from my whiney sister-in-law.
Indeed, Sugar, I’s thankful for the tarnished linings of all them dark, brooding clouds.

Justin

Every day Abana carries the ten gallon water jug to the well, stands in line, fills the jug when it is her turn, then carries it home. She has to only walk one mile each way. She used to have to walk four miles there and back again. Abana is eleven. She had a brother. He was only four when he died from drinking dirty water. That was before a well was built in their own town, before they could get clean water every day. People who cared donated money to build the well. Abana is thankful for clean water.

Tom

I’ve had a second job for years. I drive around behind Brink’s Armored cars and wait for money to fall out. Been doing it for 40 years, have this friend who owns a used car lot, use a different car each day. Not that hard to do, just a few hour each workday. Came close once or twice over the years. A door swung open, a guy drove off and left a bag behind, but to date no money has hit the road yet. I’m still hopeful. And thankful that Americans is a land where trucks filled with money drive around.

Byz

The door slammed shut in Lola’s face. Could she cope with another pubescent teenager?
Memories of past rebellions sent her pulse rate soaring. A simple request to hang out the washing had caused the girl to turn on her. Was obedience too much to expect?
Five kids had already traveled this route, happily causing chaos. Thankfully, each one had survived puberty’s rite of passage and eventually grown up.
All too familiar tears stung the back of her eyes and throat, reminding just how tough it could get. She would have to be the strong one, for her daughter and herself.

Hattie

Sally pulled the yellow cashmere scarf off her neck and tossed it on the floor in the front hall. She pulled off her wool pea coat and let it fall into a heap. Right foot then left foot she kicked off her pointy toed heels. In stockinged feet, Sally shuffled into the kitchen and poured herself a celebratory glass of chardonnay. The telephone rang as she enjoyed the last drop. Caller ID revealed it was him. She let it ring. The papers were signed today. She didn’t have to answer. What a feeling! Finally free!

Jeffrey

We watched for a very long time until we realized what was happening. The Humans were gathering for their yearly sustenance. We had watched them gather for much smaller in take of sustenance before, but this seems to be their main feeding. It will be interesting to see how they will in take so much of what they call food. We have dissected several of them and know that their internal organs could never process so much at one time. We will move in closer, and see what we can hear. I’m thankful that there will be no dissection tonight.

Norval Joe

A tree is cut down.
Shining with tinsel and lights
It lives forever.
Anticipation.
There will be no sleep tonight.
Santa comes and goes.
Thoughtfully chosen,
Paper, silver, red and gold
gifts under the tree.
A stupid toy mouse.
Nardo knocks over the tree.
They should learn from this.
The kids are all here.
Thankful to be together
Christmas day begins.
Babies first Christmas.
She plays with bows and paper
The toys are ignored.
Traditional game,
Men and boys in the back yard
The boys win again.
Worn out already,
The baby sleeps in his arms,
Grandad takes a nap.

Mary

“What’s an eight letter word for ‘expressive of gratitude’?”
“Are you still messing with that crossword? Don’t you realize how much we need to get done?”
“Fourth letter is ‘N’.”
“We’ve got to get this whole house clean. Why’d we buy such a big house?”
“Ends in ‘L’.”
“I hope I bought enough food. I can’t believe the entire family is coming to dinner.”
“It might start with ‘T’.”
“At least nobody’s in the hospital this year.”
“That’s it! Thanks honey!”
“What?”
“The word is T-H-A-N-K-F-U-L, and you just made me realize how much I have to be thankful for.”

Ashley

She froze, focused on the dark form standing before her, steadied her breathing and prepared to fire.
Before she could squeeze the trigger, Jacome stepped from the shadow of a tree and raised his hand, weapon pointed to the ground.
Rica said, “You had better be thankful you’re not a regular. Your ass was about to be toast.”
Replied Jacome,” I could say the same.”
On a precipice far above, a regular sniper eased off the safety and caressed the trigger once, then again.
After awhile, the jungle slowly began to come back to life, for the short term anyway.

Guy

The ceremony of “The Thankful” was about to begin. “We have so much to be thankful for” said Kurt, their leader. Simon brought the wine. Berta brought the cheese and the crackers. They all span around in the circle and chanted, then Emily threw red flowers into the air. Everyone cheered. “It’s like a wedding” laughed Amanda in joy, “it’s the ultimate binding.” Someone opened the campaign and they all toasted, then it was time. “Bring her” cried out Kurt, holding the sacrificial knife. There was a murmur, then a stunned silence as they realized the forgot the sacrificial virgin.

Planet Z

Of all the Care Bears, Thankful Bear was the most quiet.
When someone did something for him, a simple heartfelt “Thank you” sufficed.
Any more than that would be seen as obnoxious or disingenuous, he thought.
Sure, he was thankful for every day he lived, every meal he ate, and every night he slept somewhere warm and safe.
He didn’t need to shout it out every time he felt it like all the other babbling Care Bears.
His attitude on gratitude didn’t make for good film, so he was cut after the first season.
For that, he was thankful, too.

Leftover Turkey

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Thanksgiving is over.
Leftover turkey for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
That’s right. Breakfast.
Ever had turkey bacon?
Well, I made a machine that turns leftover turkey into turkey bacon.
I’m not claiming that it tastes like real bacon, but it’s really close.
And considering that you’re sick and tired of the taste of turkey, I’m sure you wouldn’t mind having your turkey as turkey bacon.
Yams are another story. There’s absolutely nothing you can do to yams to make them less like yams.
We’ll take those out to the landfill and bury them for 10,000 years like all hazardous waste.